Ficlets

No, it wasn't a story. It was all true. Every word of it.

“Now, I think Roosevelt has done an excellent job,” Miss Smithers said as they entered the gate and approached the schoolhouse.

“Bah!” Miss Irwin snorted. “He’s a communist! It’s only a matter of time before Uncle Joe’s sleeping in the Lincoln Bedroom! Oh Lord, there’s Johnny – I don’t see why we keep feeding him.”

“Because it would upset the other children if he starved to death in the playground. Hello, Johnny. I have some fruit today.”

The man in the blue jeans and bowler hat scowled back at them from his usual seat on the little metal elephant.

“I don’t see why I can’t enlist,” he pouted. “I’m 23 years old!” (The elephant wobbled on its spring when he spoke.)

“Now, dear,” Miss Smithers replied, “you know perfectly well that first-graders can’t join the army. If you would just study-”

“Hell no!”

“Johnny! Language!”

“I’d rather die!”

“Now, Johnny…” Miss Smithers tutted as she gave him an apple.

“You can’t make me learn math!” the man shouted and stuck out his tongue at them.

View this story's 1 comments.